


Quarantine

by StarlightSystem



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Also this has nothing to do with coronavirus, Alternate Universe - Quarantine (Gravity Falls), Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Gen, Heavy variant, Hurt/Comfort, I named it months ago and its just a coincidence, Recovery, This is gonna be rough if ur a big fan of Ford, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightSystem/pseuds/StarlightSystem
Summary: Dipper and Mabel defeat Bill Cipher and save the world, but at what cost? Mabel saw her brother vanish right before her eyes, and has all but given up the hope that he survived somehow. Then Ford comes across an injured demon that looks suspiciously like his great nephew, and he has to make a difficult decision.Years later, it’s up to Mabel to pick up the pieces.A sub-AU ofTranscendence.
Comments: 31
Kudos: 78





	Quarantine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KJynx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJynx/gifts).



> For more info on Quarantine AU, including art, other fics, and brainstorming/spoilers for this fic, check out [the blog](https://quarantine-au.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks so much to [ToothPasteCanyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyFenton123/pseuds/ToothPasteCanyon) for beta reading this!

“Sixer? Are you there? Sixer, wake up!”

Ford groaned as the cascade of noises buffeting his brain resolved into his brother’s voice. He opened his eyes and quickly had to shut them again because the light was too bright. Lifting his arm, he cringed at the aching pain radiating throughout his body. He tried to push himself upright, but there was something heavy on top of him and his muscles quickly gave out.

“No, don’t move! I’ll get you out!”

There was a grunt, and the weight was lifted off of his chest. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around him and pulled. He looked out again, eyes narrowed this time, and saw Stan hoisting him up.

He blinked. “Stanley. You’re okay.”

Stan chuckled. “Yeah, I sure am! There’s no way a simple explosion could ever take Stan Pines down!” As his eyes adjusted to the light, Ford got a better look at his brother’s face, and could make out the wet marks where he’d clearly been crying. “But enough about me. I thought you were a goner when that thing exploded! You need anything?”

Ford started coughing, causing Stan to tensen in concern. Ford shook his head to say that he was fine, and then took a few deep breaths. “Stanley. What happened?”

The lines on Stan’s face creased. “You tell me, Poindexter! I have no idea! One minute we were all in that crazy pyramid chanting that magic gobbledygook you had us do, the next we were all flying to hell!”

“Pyramid… Pyramid!” Ford detached himself from his brother and shot to his feet. He looked into the sky and saw none of the chaos from earlier. The rift was sealed, the Fearamid was gone, and there were no more demons or eyebats flying around. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. His eyes widened in awe. “I can’t believe it. He’s gone. We really did it!” He started hollering in glee, then got interrupted by a coughing fit.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a hero, we get it,” Stan said, rolling his eyes. He patted Ford on the back until he stopped coughing and then leaned in. “Listen, we’ve gotta find everyone. You’re the first person I’ve seen since I woke up. Is there any chance your fancy science knows where they went?”

Still overjoyed with his victory and only half listening to his brother, Ford started pacing back and forth. “It’s a miracle, it really is. I had a feeling that inscribing the antithesis of the runes on Bill’s circle and linking hands would give us enough power to destroy him. It looks like everyone might’ve gotten scattered during the explosion, but the demons are gone! Bill’s dead! We did it!”

“What? You don’t know what happened to everyone?” Stan grabbed his brother’s shoulders and shook him. “The kids, Ford! Are they okay? If your harebrained plan got them hurt I’ll kick you straight to the moon!”

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” yelled a voice from the distance.

The two men turned to the forest, where they could see Mabel’s small form running toward them at top speed. Stan let out a sigh of relief, and Ford turned to him with a smug smile on his face. “See? There’s Mabel right there. Nothing to worry about.”

Stan grunted, looking unimpressed. “We’ll see. At least she’s okay. Everyone else better be too.”

Ford kept smiling, but it slowly melted away as Mabel got closer. There were large rips in her sweater, bruises all over her legs, and a small fire at the end of her hair. Most worryingly, she had tears streaming down her face and was waving her arms around wildly. She launched herself at Stan -- who managed to catch her with more dexterity than Ford expected him to have -- then wrapped her arms around his neck and continued weeping.

“Mabel? Sweetie? Are you alright?” Stan asked, patting her gently on the head and putting out the fire in her hair. “Did you get hurt?”

For a minute, Mabel could do nothing but hiccup and rub her face into Stan’s shoulder. Then:

“It’s Dipper! He’s gone!”

Both men blanched, and shared a glance. “Don’t worry,” Ford said nervously. “Everyone got spread out after the Fearamid exploded. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. We just need to fi-”

“No!” Mabel shouted, making him start. She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes and trembled. “He was with me, and then all this blue fire got on him and he was screaming and then he just disappeared! He’s gone, Grunkle Ford, I can’t find him!”

Stan growled. “Sixer, what’s she talking about?”

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “It can’t have been Bill, he’s dead!”

“I’m not gonna pretend to understand the mumbo-jumbo we did up there, but are you sure?” Stan asked. “Did anyone actually see him die?”

“Well, uh, no…”

Mabel fixed Ford with a steely glare. “Does that mean Bill’s still out there and he got Dipper?”

Ford raised his hands defensively. “Let’s not get carried away! We don’t know that for sure! I’m almost certain Bill is dead! I… I can prove it!” Ford pulled a device out of his jacket and pointed it up at the sky. It beeped a few times, and then showed a flat line. “See?” he exclaimed, relieved. “No bad energy detected!” He roved around, pointing the device at various places just to confirm that it was all the same. “Bill has to be dead, or else I’d be able to detect him with this. I’m sure -”

Ford was cut off by a series of beeps from the device. He looked at it and felt the breath leave his throat. A blip. Just a little one, but it was there: _something_ originating from the forest that Mabel had run out of.

“Sixer…” Stan spoke slowly. “What does that mean?”

“It… it appears there’s some bad energy radiating out of the forest.” He took a deep breath. “Possibly demonic.”

“Dipper, I’ll save you!” Mabel yelled. She flailed around frantically, but Stan held her tight. “Let me go, I need to save him!”

“Not a chance!” Stan retorted. “It’s too dangerous!”

“I have to find him!” She pounded her fists against her great uncle, starting to weep again. “He’d do the same for me!”

Still staring at the blips on the energy detector, Ford shook his head. “Let’s not be so hasty. We don’t know that Dipper -- or Bill, for that matter -- is in there. We need to spread out and look for him. Cover all of our bases. He could be anywhere.”

Wiping snot away from her nose, Mabel nodded. “Who’s gonna check the forest then?”

“I’ll do it. I’m still convinced Bill is dead, but whatever is causing this dark energy is bound to be dangerous. It’d be best if I took care of it.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Stan looked his brother up and down, doubt written all over his face. “You don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to this kind of stuff.”

Ford sighed. “I know I’ve made some mistakes before. But I promise I can handle this. I’ll take care of whatever’s in there, and if I find Dipper, I’ll bring him back safe. Can you trust me?”

Stan eyed him suspiciously, and then deflated. “Alright. Good luck, Sixer. Cmon Mabel, let’s go check in town. Maybe ol’ Dip got teleported to the diner and was so hungry that he forgot to go looking for people. Killing demons makes a guy hungry, y’know?”

“Maybe…” she murmured, sniffing. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Ford stood there for a bit and watched Stan carry his niece away. Still slung over Stan’s shoulders, Mabel stared back at Ford, the misery palpable on her face even though she’d stopped crying. A memory echoed back to him of another pair of twins torn apart through the intervention of a demon, and he had to look away. It wasn’t time to get emotional. He had to protect his family.

He started off toward the forest. At first it seemed like nothing was wrong, with only the occasional beeps from his device indicating otherwise. But the further in he got, the darker the world around him became. The birds in the trees stopped chirping. The little rivers and streams petered out to nothing. Even the dirt beneath his shoes ceased to crunch as Ford approached the source of the bad energy. He could feel his anxiety ticking up step-by-step, as the darkness surrounded him and he was enveloped in the chill of dread. He knew what sorts of things were capable of putting off this kind of energy, and he knew from experience that dealing with them never went well.

Ford continued onward until the point at which it got so dark that he could no longer see. He stopped short, and something inside of him lurched -- he knew he’d arrived as his destination. He swapped his energy detector with a flashlight from his jacket and switched it on, flicking it side to side to try and figure out what was causing the darkness, but there was nothing in sight apart from trees and more trees. He scratched his head in confusion, and took another step forward.

And then he tripped.

“Shit!” he shouted as he stumbled over, but his voice was drowned out by something with much more substance.

A low, long moan. It was quiet but it overloaded Ford’s brain like it was being directly injected into his mind.

Ford hit the ground and rolled, tucking his knees in to form a ball. He skidded across the grass and came to a stop a few feet away relatively unharmed. Taking deep breaths, he sat upright and tried to maintain his composure. It was just a forest filled with dark, evil energy -- no big deal! He’d thrown hands with the biggest and baddest entities in several universes and won at least half of the time! What was he getting so worked up about?

There was another moan, and it rippled through Ford’s body like a shockwave. Gulping, he directed his flashlight at the spot where he’d tripped, and his blood ran cold.

 _Dipper_.

Ford jumped up, groaning as his bones crackled and popped with exertion, and ran over to his great nephew. The boy was facing away from him, lying on his side in the fetal position. His vest and shorts were tattered, but his trucker cap was still on -- trapped between the boy’s head and the ground. He was clearly hurt because he wasn’t moving, but he had to be alive, because what else could’ve been making that sound? Gently, Ford touched his shoulder, and said “Dipper. It’s me, Grunkle Ford. Are you alright?”

No response. Close up, Ford could see that Dipper’s eyes were shut but his mouth was hanging open. Ford’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed that Dipper’s chest wasn’t moving -- he didn’t seem to be breathing. Panicking, Ford shook the boy’s shoulder, urging him, “Dipper, please. You need to wake up. You can’t be dead.” Images of Mabel’s miserable face from earlier filled his memory, and he shook even harder. “You can’t…”

Dipper shifted, and Ford trailed off. Dipper shifted, and his face contorted into a grimace.

“Grunkle… Ford?” Dipper whispered, and Ford’s every hair stood on end, because there was something wrong, something very very wrong with this. Dipper’s words, so weak and scared, nevertheless echoed through his being like they were in a wind tunnel.

Very cautiously, Ford stood up and backed away from the boy huddled on the floor. “Yes?” he asked once he was a few feet away.

Dipper shifted again and slowly lifted his head off the ground. No longer pinned to the ground, his pine tree hat moved, caught by some gust of wind that Ford couldn’t feel. The moment it was no longer touching the boy’s head it burst into flame, lighting up like a brilliant blue fireball before flying away and scattering like dust between the trees.

Ford’s anxiety shot through the roof. He took another step back, and, voice quivering, said, “Dipper?”

“G-grunkle Ford, it- it- it hurts…” the boy croaked. He pushed himself up on one arm, turned his head _180 degrees around his neck_ and opened his eyes. The bottom dropped out of Ford’s stomach when he saw that his eyes were not white-and-brown as they usually were, but rather pitch black.

That was not Dipper.

Ford started stepping back again, almost stumbling over in his panic. That wasn’t Dipper, whatever that thing- whatever that _demon_ was it _wasn’t Dipper_. All at once Ford realized that their work had been for nothing. Bill Cipher and all of the other demons should have been killed or cast out forever, but there was one right in front of him and it was moving and it was talking and _it looked like Dipper_.

He realized with horror that that was probably how the demon managed to avoid getting cast out like the rest of them. By pretending to be someone else.

Ford suddenly felt a lot less confident that they were ever going to find Dipper.

“Gr-grunkle Fo-o-ord,” the demon yowled again, with a voice so tantalizingly familiar but simultaneously so distorted and horrifying that Ford could barely handle it. “Where ar- wh- where are you going? I need help…”

“Stay back!” Ford shouted. Sweat was rolling down his forehead and he was rapidly losing control of his anxiety. “Don’t move! I’m warning you!”

The demon shuddered, and collapsed to the ground. Its head remained twisted around to stare at Ford. “You’re right. I won- I won’t move. It hurts so much, I...” It trailed off and continued to shudder, putting on its best impression of being in pain so that Ford would feel bad for it. He refused to let it work on him because he was an expert at dealing with demons and he had to protect his family and he had to protect the _world_ and-

“Ma-Mabel,” it gasped. “Mabel, is she okay? Grunk-grunkle Ford? I need… I need her. Is she okay? Did she… did she survive?”

Ford opened his mouth to shout some more, but faltered when he heard the demon’s voice hitch awkwardly. It made a noise that was something like a hiccup, and then one that was suspiciously like a sob. Ford’s already-open mouth gaped wider at the sight of thick yellow tears flowing out of the demon’s horrific eyes.

Was Dipper -- _the demon that looked like Dipper_ \-- was it crying? Could demons do that?

No -- he reminded himself as the thing before him continued to make pathetic gasping noises -- no, demons couldn’t feel real emotions. Demons only pretended. Demons only knew how to trick and steal and lie and manipulate. Obviously this demon was taking Dipper’s form because it wanted to sway him into a moment of vulnerability -- fool him into doing something to help his injured nephew -- and then take everything away just like last time.

Just like with Bill.

Except… Bill never cried at him.

And Bill never had to beg him for anything either. Bill had much more finesse. Bill could get what he wanted with fancy words, without having to resort to something like this. Maybe this demon just operated in a different way than Bill did.

Or… what if this demon _was_ actually injured?

What if -- he wondered as the monster wearing Dipper’s face twisted its head back around and curled up into a tight ball -- what if it was begging because it was weak and didn’t have the ability to wheel and deal?

There was a chance -- he considered as the thing stopped sobbing and was reduced to whimpers -- just a chance that it really was in pain, and wasn’t just pretending. 

Maybe -- he thought as he pulled his magical essence detector from his jacket and focused it on the demon -- maybe he had the upper hand for once.

The device in Ford’s hand beeped, and displayed a wildly fluctuating set of graphs superimposed on top of each other. He focused on the one indicating demonic energy, and his eyes grew wide. That thing in front of him was certainly a demon, but if Ford’s device was telling the truth, it was barely holding on to life.

“G-grunkle Ford…?” the echoey voice called again, cracking like a child’s would.

Ford grimaced, and continued watching the device. The demon’s energy was low, but it was slowly creeping up. Second by second, it was regaining minute amounts of demonic power.

“Ford?”

It was weak now, but it wouldn’t be for long. He had to decide what to do, quick.

“Please, I need help…”

The idea hit him like a beam of light cutting through the evil cloud of magic. He knew what he had to do.

Cautiously, Ford crept back toward the demon. Up close, he could see that it was pressing its palms to its eyes, hiding the very thing that had ruined its disguise in the first place. Its hair was swept back, and Ford could see the Big Dipper traced with gold light on its forehead. Its face had wet, yellow splotches on it from crying. It was shivering like it was cold, or possibly just because it was low on energy. Definitely the latter -- he had to think about it in those terms, in the terms of what it was really feeling and not what it was showing, because otherwise he’d get drawn in by the fluffy brown hair and the childlike form and the cries for help and he’d forget that this thing wasn’t actually Dipper.

“I’m here,” Ford said, keeping his voice deep and steady. “I’ll help you, Di- kid.” He reached down and took the thing into his arms. It was cold to the touch, and despite its constant shuddering, he couldn’t feel anything moving beneath its skin.

“Th-thank you,” it managed to say between gasps.

“Ye-yes.” Ford stood back up and surveyed the woods around him. “We’ll get you to safety. Don’t… don’t you worry.” Trying not to disturb the demon, he awkwardly turned his flashlight back in the direction he was pretty sure he had come from. If he knew the forest -- and he was pretty sure he did -- then he wasn’t too far from where he wanted to go.

He set off through the trees. He had to use his flashlight to navigate because the darkness seemed to be following him now, which made sense because it was clearly centered on the thing in his arms. The huddled form continued to shiver, and occasionally tried to speak to him or started weeping again. It hurt him more than words could tell to see such pain and misery being expressed using Dipper’s form. Instinct told him to clutch the boy close to his chest as he walked, but he rejected it because that thing wasn’t really a boy and instinct had failed him before.

Finally, he found what he was looking for. He sat on the ground, resting the demon on his lap, and dropped his flashlight. He carefully reached into his jacket and pulled out a grappling hook, which he fired up at a nearby tree. The hook looped around a high-up branch, and he pulled back, activating the hidden lever. There was a rumble, and the tree began to sink into the ground. Watching the entrance to his secret bunker open, Ford wrapped his arms around the demon again and stood up.

“Rsrng…” the thing-that-wasn’t-Dipper murmured. “Where- where are we?”

Ford gritted his teeth and began to descend into the lab. “Somewhere safe.”

The demon started to move, uncurling its arms and legs, stretching out so Ford had to grapple to not drop it. Its eyes blinked open and shut, alternating so that one coal black eye was always open. “I feel weird. It doesn’t hurt as much now… How long has it been?”

Alarm bells rang in Ford’s mind, and he quickened his pace. “Don’t worry about that,” he replied haphazardly while simultaneously trying to punch in the security code to enter his lab. “You need rest. Keep- keep your eyes closed.”

It opened both eyes in response to that. “Is Mabel here? Is she okay too?”

“She’s fine! She’s resting!” Ford half-shouted. The centers of the demon’s eyes were filling in with a sickeningly familiar shade of yellow. He looked away and pressed onward, trying to ignore the frequent nudges as it shifted around in his grasp.

He came to the back corner of the lab, to a cluttered room filled with an experiment he’d long given up on. Now, apparently, was the time to see if he could get it to work. Inside the room was a mesh cage. He stepped inside and gently laid the demon onto the floor, in the middle of a circle that had intricate symbols carved around the edges. As soon as it was out of his hands, he tiptoed backward, watching the dark heap, hoping against hope that he was going to get out of this one alive.

The demon shifted. Dipper’s hand trembled, and it pushed the rest of the body into a seated position. It looked around the room it was in, at the circle, the symbols, the metal bars on the walls and ceiling, the canisters of salt hanging above, and then at the old man attempting to escape. “Grunkle Ford?” it asked, the worried tremble from earlier returning to its voice. “What’s going on? What is this?”

Panicking, Ford turned around and sprinted for the exit. He slammed the cage door shut and removed the key from the lock. He watched the demon push itself onto two legs, watched it take a stilted step forward, watched it open Dipper’s mouth so it could play with his emotions, and he couldn’t take it any longer. He reached for the lever mounted on the machine beside the entrance to the cage, and pulled down as hard as he could.

There was a flash of light, and the binding circle illuminated. The demon began to scream in pain and fell to its knees. There was a loud clanging sound as the iron-cast bars fell into place, forming an enclosure that even a manotaur wouldn’t be able to break out of. Next, the canisters began sprinkling salt throughout the cage, continuously so the demon wouldn’t be able to gather its strength. Finally, the warding enchantment finished booting up and the floor turned into a mirror. The room began to shake so violently that for a minute, Ford could barely see if the demon was still inside.

Then it stopped. There was a dinging noise, and the machine beside him flashed “CONTAINMENT SUCCEEDED”.

Heart racing, Ford could only stare at the machine. Then it hit him what he’d achieved, and he doubled over in exhaustion. He couldn’t believe it -- he’d actually managed to trap a demon in his homegrown array of wards, binding spells, and enchantments. The past couple of hours had been the most stressful he’d ever lived through, but he’d actually done it. He’d saved everyone. He’d saved his family.

Almost.

Ford’s forehead creased as he thought about his great nephew. He’d never be able to forgive himself for letting Dipper get killed by a demon. He’d only known Dipper for about a month but even in that time he’d become very fond of the boy. Dipper had had so much potential, and now he was gone from the world forever. All because Ford was stupid enough to get tricked by a demon 30 years earlier. He straightened up, leaned against the cage, and stared at the wall. He’d saved the world, but suddenly it felt so incredibly empty.

There was a rattle, and then an arm shot out between the bars of the cage, right next to Ford’s head.

Yelling in shock, he leapt out of the way of the arm’s wildly flailing motions. He pulled the magnet gun out of his jacket and aimed it at the cage. It wouldn’t be able to do anything to a demon, but if he could fool this thing into getting into a jail cell, maybe he’d be able to fool it into thinking a magnet gun was dangerous. The arm continued to flail around, straining for something -- it likely wanted to strangle him, Ford thought -- then finally fell limp. It was retracted into the cell, and in its place Ford caught sight of the face that would surely haunt his nightmares for years.

“Grunkle Ford! Let me out!” the demon cried in Dipper’s voice.

“Never!” Ford yelled back. “You’re staying in there where you can’t ever hurt anyone again, you monster!”

“Monster? What? Grunkle Ford, it’s me!”

“You can’t fool me!” Ford knew he was letting the demon trick him into getting emotional, but he was so shaken by the sight of such incredible fear on Dipper’s face that he couldn’t help getting defensive. “I’ll never trust a demon again!”

“Demon…?” It gaped at him for a moment, and then looked down at its reflection in the mirrored floor. The demon gasped in pretend shock, then yowled in pain as a canister of salt upended over its head. Its cries reverberated so intensely that it messed up Ford’s balance and he ended up falling over. “What’s going on?” it screeched. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Be quiet!” Ford’s head was still spinning from hitting the ground, but Dipper’s -- _no_ , the demon’s -- anguished face stuck solidly in his vision even though everything else was a blur. “I’m done listening to you!” He felt something bubble up in his throat, felt his eyes start to water up and sting, and tried his hardest to repress it all. “This is what you get for killing my great-nephew!”

“No, it’s me, _I’m_ Dipper, I’m your nephew, please Ford let me out!” it shouted, grabbing the metal bars and shaking as hard as it could. “I won’t hurt you, please Ford, I need Mabel, I’m scared, I don’t know what’s happening to me!”

Its eyes started to leak yellow liquid again, and Ford felt his stomach twist in disgust. Grasping for the wall, he got himself to his feet and headed toward the exit. The demon howled again in pain but Ford held his ground this time and kept walking. Step by step, he forced himself to focus on the ground in front of him and his feet plodding forward one by one, so that he couldn’t dwell on the demon’s words and start to worry that he’d made a terrible mistake. Inch by inch he had to remind himself that demons were monsters who would say anything and pretend to be anyone in order to get what they wanted. Second by second, he had to reassure himself that no matter how wrong it felt he was doing what was right, because the thing he was leaving behind in his lab was _not_ Dipper Pines.

The sounds of metal banging and frantic screaming gradually got quieter as he went through the lab’s security lock and back into the woods. By the time he closed the entrance to the lab and the tree rose back to ground level, he couldn’t hear anything at all. Which was good, because he didn’t want anyone to know he’d trapped and quarantined a demon. It would be safer for everyone if only he knew of its existence.

With the demon locked up, the darkness was gone from the forest. He could see the sun shine, could smell the trees, could hear his family and friends scattered through the forest calling out to each other in their search for survivors. He was so glad to hear them, so glad just to be alive after the experience he’d had.

Then he remembered. There was one person he knew they wouldn’t be finding anytime soon. Heart heavy in his chest, he made his way toward the voices and tried to figure out how to break the bad news.


End file.
